He put in some tremendous games for his beloved club and none more aptly than that glorious night at Maine Road when United triumphed over Bilbao in the European Cup. The Spaniards threw everything they could at United that evening, but they could not breach the defence at which he was the central lynchpin. He faced some of the toughest and hardest centre forwards of his era, but none ever baulked him – household names of the time like Lofthouse, Ford, Hickson, Milburn, Revie, Swinbourne, Allen, Wayman, Bentley, Smith. Unfortunately fate decreed that he would never ever realize his ambition of playing for his country. He was called up into an England party when he was named as a reserve but that was as far as it went – no subs or place on the bench back then. That dream would, I am certain, have been realised as he was certainly knocking on the door at the time of the tragedy. I also believe that had he lived, Billy Wright would not have reached the figure of 105 caps for England.
My own experience of meeting Mark came on a couple of occasions through schoolboy football. In 1957 my school team had reached the final of a knockout competition and it was played at Newton Heath Loco in the Newton Heath area of Manchester. For us kids that night, it was like the experience of professionals reaching Wembley – an enclosed ground, nets, referee and linesmen, a large crowd (we played before the start of a game between Manchester Catholic Boys and Liverpool Catholic Boys) and we were all so starry eyed. My school team lost that Final by 4-2, and although I was disappointed at losing, I had played fairly well. It was great consolation to me that the medals were presented by Mark, and that for me was just thrill enough. I couldn’t wait to receive mine and as I did, he handed me the medal and ruffled my hair saying in his thick Yorkshire accent, “well played young ‘un.” In November of 1957, he again did the presentations for a school’s 5-a-side competition which was held at The Proctor’s Gymnasium and Hulme Lad’s Club in Hulme, which my school side won. That night he had the Labrador dog with him and it just sat at his side as he spent time with all the kids, signing every bit of paper that they put in front of him. Here was an established United player giving of his free time to schoolboy football in the Manchester area. He was such a very gentle man off the field.
June, his wife, was five months pregnant with their son Gary at the time of the disaster. After it happened, the Labrador dog pined for him so badly and died in the March just a few short weeks afterwards. I have great memories of him playing for United and as I said at the beginning, he really was one of the unsung heroes. The doughty stopper, the uncompromising centre half, the archetypal pivot, the seam of Yorkshire granite. Most of all, I remember a man who loved his family, loved his club and was indeed a very gentle giant.
Sleep on in peace Mark – never forgotten.
Mark played in 121 games in all competitions scoring just 1 goal.
